"When my uncle was ill at Prague, Fraulein," the girl said, "my mother
took me there to see him. We used to go out to the river, and go
half-way over the tall bridge, and then down to the 'Sofien-Insel.' Ah,
the beautiful place!--with the music, and the walks under the trees; and
there we used to see the Austrian officers. These _were_ handsome, with
there beautiful uniforms, and waists like a girl; and the beautiful
gloves they wore, too!--even when they were smoking cigarettes."

Natalie Lind was apparently thinking of other things. She neither
rebuked nor approved Anneli's speech; though it was hard that the little
Saxon maid should have preferred to the sturdy, white-haired,
fair-skinned warriors of her native land the elegant young gentlemen of
Francis Joseph's army.

"They are handsome, those Englishmen," Natalie Lind was saying, almost
to herself, "and very rich and brave; but they have no sympathy. All
their fighting for their liberty is over and gone; they cannot believe
there is any oppression now anywhere; and they think that those who wish
to help the sufferers of the world are only discontented and fanatic--a
trouble--an annoyance. And they are hard with the poor people and the
weak; they think it is wrong--that you have done wrong--if you are not
well off and strong like themselves. I wonder if that was really an
English lady who wrote the 'Cry of the Children.'"

"I beg your pardon, Fraulein."

"Nothing, Anneli. I was wondering why so rich a nation as the English
should have so many poor people among them--and such miserable poor
people; there is nothing like it in the world."

They were walking along the broad road leading to the Marble Arch,
between the leafless trees. Suddenly the little Saxon girl exclaimed, in
an excited whisper,

"Fraulein! Fraulein!"

"What is it, Anneli?"

"The lady--the lady who came with the flowers--she is behind us. Yes; I
am sure."

The girl's mistress glanced quickly round. Some distance behind them
there was certainly a lady dressed altogether in black, who, the moment
she perceived that these two were regarding her, turned aside, and
pretended to pick up something from the grass.

"Fraulein, Fraulein," said Anneli, eagerly; "let us sit down on this
seat. Do not look at her. She will pass."

The sudden presence of this stranger, about whom she had been thinking
so much, had somewhat unnerved her; she obeyed this suggestion almost
mechanically; and waited wi